


What Doesn't Kill You

by professor



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: A Lot Of Masturbation, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Blue Balls, Charles works nights as a poledancer, Erik Is Crushing Harder Than A 12-Year-Old Girl, Erik is a professor and Charles is a TA, Erik is trying to do the right thing okay, M/M, Masturbation, Sex Positive, Teacher-Student Relationship, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-28
Updated: 2012-11-28
Packaged: 2017-11-19 19:05:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/576632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/professor/pseuds/professor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Erik is a first-year professor nursing a tiny crush on his TA, but he's got it under control -- at least until his friends drag him out to a club one night and he discovers his TA's night job.</p>
<p>Written for kinkmeme prompt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Doesn't Kill You

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文 available: [[授权翻译]What Doesn't Kill You](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3799696) by [Shame_i_translate](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shame_i_translate/pseuds/Shame_i_translate)



> Written for kinkmeme prompt: http://xmen-firstkink.livejournal.com/6192.html?thread=8667440#t8667440
> 
> _Erik is a professor. Charles is his favorite TA._
> 
> _Erik would never suspect sweet, innocent Charles of being any more than a gushing academic in a cardigan, but when he accompanies his friends to a club he sees Charles working a pole/stripping like the pro he is._
> 
> _Charles doesn't know that Erik saw him, but now Erik can't look at his TA without seeing him half-naked and writhing. Erik can't seem to stop visiting the club, either._
> 
> _Bonuses:_  
>  \- Erik reading dirty connotations into everything Charles says/does  
> \- Charles being in positions that remind Erik of how athletic/appealing he is under his old man clothes (i.e. stretching over a desk, getting soaked in the rain, etc)  
> \- Erik being a big creeper and having a crisis over Charles 

Erik is somewhat embarrassed about being here.

Emma rolls her eyes at him. "You are twenty-eight years old and it's only your first year as a professor. You don't need dignity."

Erik opens his mouth to say, yes he does need dignity, he would like to make tenure, but shuts it when Azazel and Janos start making out. They are all at this strip club to celebrate Azazel and Janos' engagement, and the least Erik could do is shut up and be happy for his friends, who couldn't have even gotten legally married in this state half a year ago.

Erik orders another round of drinks. Emma's right, it won't kill him to loosen up a bit. 

The drinks arrive, and he makes a toast to the happy couple. And suppresses his twinge of envy at them, for having found each other.

Erik is in the middle of telling Emma another horror story about his students, when Janos hisses and waves at them. "Shut up you two, I want to watch this one without distractions."

Erik turns toward the stage, and oh, he's a cute one, all loose wavy dark hair and milky white skin and slim hips as he writhes and dances around the pole. Quite flexible and athletic, too, as he wraps his legs around the pole and uses his pelvis to scissor his body up and down the pole, his arms dangling free.

Erik's mouth goes a bit dry, so he takes another drink.

The dancer flexes and writhes and twirls his way through his routine, and Erik is entranced by the how sinuously lovely he is. 

The dancer finishes his routine with a big flourish and ends up on his knees at the end of the stage, and Erik gets a good look at his face.

It's like a punch to the gut. 

_Charles_.

*****

Two months ago Erik had been starting his first year ever as an assistant professor, with a Ph.D so new the ink hadn't dried. He'd been secretly terrified of screwing up, and was covering everything with false bravado.

Charles, the second-year Ph.D student assigned as his TA for the semester, had carefully dismantled every single wall Erik had built for himself with cheerful optimism, unwavering support, and frequent gifts of coffee. He'd shown Erik the ropes of the department and the university, bullied him into attending department faculty outings, and graded shitty freshman papers without complaint.

Erik had already been nursing a tiny (huge) crush on the man, had made some vague plans of asking him out to coffee after the semester was over and he was no longer technically Charles' boss.

Now that (not-so) tiny crush has been fanned into a _towering inferno of lust_ , and Erik is not sure he is going to last the _next ten minutes_ without ripping the man's g-string off with his teeth and fucking him right there on the stage, let alone lasting the rest of semester treating Charles in a professional manner.

*****

Erik doesn't remember much more about the evening -- he had no idea how he made it through. But he must have said the right things, because his friends wished him a cheerful goodnight when he left a couple hours later.

Erik lets himself into his apartment and has his clothes off and his hand slicked up with lube before he can blink. He conjures a fantasy: him following Charles back to his private dressing room (nevermind he probably doesn't have one, it's Erik's fantasy goddamnit), complimenting Charles on his dancing, Charles smiling and coyly offering him a private dance, Charles riding his cock as skillfully as he works a pole, Charles with his head thrown back and his eyes slammed shut, crying _Erik Erik Erik_ like a prayer.

It takes an embarrassingly short amount of time to bring himself off with this particular vision. But Erik is damned if he is going to feel guilty about the thoughts inside his own head.

*****

It's Monday and Erik is reconsidering that whole feeling guilty about his thoughts thing. Because he just feels like such a creeper.

He can't even look at Charles, Charles in his ridiculous old-man cardigans and khakis, without imagining how good he looks out of them.

They've just wrapped up lecture, and Charles is helping him pack up.

"Is there anything else I can do for you, Professor Lehnsherr?" Charles asks, the same way he asks at the end of every lecture. Charles insisted on addressing him by title in front of students, as a gesture of respect, even though Erik was barely a few years older than the other man. Luckily Charles had agreed to call him Erik when they were in the department. Erik had never cared one way or another much before, but something about the deferential way Charles says _Professor Lehnsherr_ goes straight to his dick today.

"No, but thank you," says Erik, managing to get the words out without choking on them.

He excuses himself and practically runs to the library, the four-story library with lots of restrooms tucked away in forgotten corners. 

Erik throws himself into a single restroom with a locking door, and pulls his cock out. Three strokes and he's gone.

There are still two months left in the semester. Erik is going to die of blue balls.

*****

It's Saturday and Erik is back at the club, sitting at secluded table in a dark corner, downing drink after drink.

Charles is writhing onstage and Erik is hard-pressed not to pull his cock out and masturbate right here, but there's no tablecloth on the table, nothing to block the view (probably for just that reason) and so he refrains.

Charles finishes his routine and Erik stumbles outside and into a cab.

When he gets home, he spends the rest of the night fantasizing about Charles and beating off. He should probably feel dirty about it.

He doesn't.

*****

It's Wednesday and Erik enters his office to the sight of Charles bent across his desk.

He nearly has an aneurysm on the spot.

Charles grabs the book he was reaching for, and stands back up. Turns, and sees Erik.

"Is something wrong, Erik?" he asks, those too-red lips of his shaping the words.

"Nothing," he says gruffly, and he starts discussing his lecture plans for the next week.

_Six more weeks_.

Erik is up half the night jerking off.

If Charles notices how tired he looks the next day, he doesn't comment on it.

*****

Another Saturday, another night at the club. The bartender and waitstaff are starting to recognize him. Erik vaguely contemplates getting some kind of disguise to wear, but dismisses it. 

Charles comes onstage, and, oh, that's new, there's another dancer with him.

And then they start their routine.

Erik is filled with virulent hatred toward the other man, who gets to touch Charles when Erik must content himself with his own fevered imaginings.

Erik should probably stop going to the club, if only to save his own sanity.

He knows he won't.

*****

His friends are no help.

"Seriously, you should just fuck him," says Janos. "I am choking on your unresolved sexual tension over here."

Erik glares. "Thank you so much for your support."

Az laughs. "I don't understand what the problem is. It's not like he's some 18-year-old fresh out of high school. He's what, 25, 26? And there's what, a month left in the semester? Ask him out. And if he says yes, fuck the daylights out of him. And if he says no, well, then at least you know."

Emma waves her hand dismissively. "Please, this is Erik. Since when does he ever make anything easy?"

Erik hopes they all die in a fire.

*****

Erik and Charles are grading papers in Erik's office, and Erik thinks he's finally managed to get his libido under control. He hasn't had to excuse himself to "go to the bathroom" all morning.

And he's having a good time talking with Charles as they grade, complaining about idiot undergrads. They've gotten back to the camraderie they shared before Erik went to the club for the first time and had his big crisis, and Erik is glad.

"It's past time for lunch," says Charles. "Want me to run and grab us something?"

Erik smiles. "Yes, thank you." He goes to pull out his wallet, but Charles waves him off. 

"You can get it next time," he says, before taking Erik's order and leaving.

Erik feels warm inside at the thought of "next time." Maybe ... maybe this isn't as hopeless as he thinks.

*****

Erik is enjoying a cup of hot chocolate and a new book on a cold, rainy night when there's a knock at the door.

He peeks out the window, utters a curse.

It's Charles, soaked to the skin and looking utterly pathetic. And also devastatingly attractive.

Erik flings open the door and ushers him inside.

"My car broke down, my mobile isn't charged, and I forgot an umbrella," says Charles as Erik is fussing over him and bundling him into a blanket. "Could I use your phone, call a cab?"

"Not before you get warmed up," says Erik. He shows Charles to his room, pulls out some sweats for Charles to change into, and bustles off to the kitchen and starts making tea.

Erik is waiting for the water to heat when he hears a noise behind him, turns to see Charles.

Charles who is wrapped in a blanket, and very obviously has nothing on underneath.

Erik's mind shorts out.

The next thing he knows, he's on his knees in front of Charles, leaning his head against Charles' blanket-covered stomach.

"I have been trying to wait until the end of the semester," Erik says slowly and with exaggerated calm, "but I think that if I don't have sex with you right now I might _actually die_ from it."

"Oh _thank god_ ," says Charles, and after that everything is a blur, a series of impressions of fumbling, stumbling back towards Erik's bedroom and taking off clothes and blankets.

And then they're naked and kissing and in Erik's bed and it's about five million times better than he'd imagined it would be.

"You have been driving me crazy _all semester_ ," gasps out Charles between kisses. 

" _I've_ been driving _you_ crazy?" Erik would laugh, if it wouldn't distract him from the kissing.

"God yes. Every time I asked you 'Is there anything else I can do for you, Professor Lehnsherr?', I kept hoping you would say 'Yes, I need you to bend over this desk, Charles,' or 'Yes, I need you to spread your legs so I can suck your cock, Charles,' and you _never did_ , and then you started _visiting my club_ \--" Charles cuts off with a moan.

"Oh god, that was some kind of Westley Princess Bride thing, and I missed it?" Now Erik feels stupid. And then the other thing Charles said registers. "You saw me at the club?"

"Yes, and god, every time, I kept hoping you would come back to my private dressing room --"

"You _actually have_ a private dressing room?!" 

"Well, I appropriated a broom closet. Still! We could have made do."

"Next time I come to the club I'll come back there and we can fuck however you like," Erik promises, licking Charles' neck. He shakes his head. "God, I'm so stupid. We could have been doing this for months."

"Don't apologize for having honorable intentions. Even if it was extremely frustrating at times." Charles smiles, and rolls his hips.

"Quite," Erik gasps. "Well, let me make it up to you. Ask me that question again, why don't you?" Erik requests.

Charles shoots him a sultry look. "Is there anything else I can do for you, Professor Lehnsherr?" he asks breathily.

"Yes, I need you to spread your legs so I can suck your cock, Charles," Erik purrs.

Charles moans and spreads his legs, and Erik gets to work. And, _god_ , Charles is so _responsive_ , head flung back, eyes slammed shut, letting out these filthy little gasps and moans and Erik thinks it's the sweetest thing he's ever heard.

Until he's got Charles on the brink and Charles is gasping out, "Oh god oh god oh god Erik Erik Erik please _Erik_ please _please_ ," and Erik decides _that's_ the sweetest thing he's ever heard. Erik was never a swallower but he does it now just to see Charles' reaction and Erik is more than rewarded with this absolutely _broken_ cry.

Erik gives Charles several more licks to clean up and then props himself up on his elbow to enjoy the view: Charles, flushed and strung out and absolutely wrecked, eyes glazed, chest heaving.

After a few minutes, Charles says "My turn" and starts scooting down the bed and ... oh, _oh_. He's very good at this. Erik arches his back and grabs at the sheets, clenching his hands into fists as Charles swirls his tongue around the head of his cock and it's Erik's turn to moan wantonly. 

Erik tries to last as long as possible, wanting to savor the experience, but it's so good, all tight slick wet heat around his cock and too soon Erik is coming with a shout.

Charles crawls back up the bed and snuggles next to Erik and that's when Erik realizes he is _truly fucked_ , because he likes the snuggling best of all. 

"You didn't have to swallow," Erik murmurs. "I mean, just because I did. I wouldn't have minded if you didn't."

"Mmmmm," Charles hums in his ear. "I wanted to. I like the way you taste," and Erik feels his cock twitch at that, like he's eighteen again.

"Stay the night?" Erik asks. _Stay forever_ , Erik thinks.

"Oh, I think so," says Charles.

*****

When Erik meets his friends at the bar on Friday night, Azazel curses, Janos smirks, and Emma rolls her eyes and says "Oh thank god."

_That's what he said_ , flits through Erik's brain before he comes back to more important issues.

"Oh, come _on_. You can't possibly _know_ ," Erik protests (weakly).

"We know _you_ , sweetie," points out Emma, and Erik has to admit this is a fair point.

Azazel is pulling money out of his wallet and handing it to Janos, who quickly tucks it away. "Really, you couldn't have waited another two weeks? I had money riding on it, Lehnsherr, you bastard."

"He showed up on my doorstep in the rain, soaking wet," says Erik.

None of them could argue with that.

*****

When Charles announces he's going be TAing for a different professor next semester, Erik has a moment of sheer blinding panic (omg doesn't he still like me?) before realizing the greater implications, i.e., he won't be Charles' boss. Fine by him. He'd quite like to be Charles' boyfriend.

"Um," says Charles, and Erik realizes that like an idiot he said that last bit out loud. _What are you doing, you only slept with him once, you're going to scare him off by going too fast_.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to, I know it's way too soon --" Erik fumbles for the right words.

Charles cuts him off with a kiss. "Oh no, you said it, I'm not letting you get out of it, _boyfriend_." 

And then Charles is grinning and Erik is grinning and they celebrate with reciprocal blowjobs in Erik's (locked) office.

*****

Erik has just finished grading the last final of his first semester as a professor. He uploads his grades to the server, files the appropriate paperwork with the department admin, and goes back to his office to pack up.

Charles is there, waiting for him, perched on his desk, wearing a saucy little grin. And nothing else.

Erik grins, and locks the door of his office behind him. 

"I just wanted to say, it was an honor working with you this semester," says Charles, his serious tone at odds with the naughty twinkle in his eye. "And before the semester ends, I wanted to make sure, is there anything else I can do for you, Professor Lehnsherr?"

Erik knows his lines by heart. "Yes Charles, I need you to bend over my desk."

*****

"We never talked about this, but are you okay with my job?" Charles asks Erik when they're out to dinner one night.

Charles is right, they haven't talked about it, and they probably should. Erik takes a minute to marshal his thoughts.

"Well, first off, may I ask why you work at the club?" Erik asks, because Charles' answer will affect his own. Charles has always seemed quite cheeful and matter-of-fact when he's dancing; if Erik thought Charles was being coerced or forced into it some way, he'd have brought up the subject much, much sooner. 

Charles shrugs. "The money's good, the hours work well with my schedule, it's great exercise, and, well," he shoots a sly glance at Erik from under his eyelashes. "I like the attention."

Erik relaxes. "I could tell you seemed to like your job, if you didn't, I'd have brought this subject up much sooner, because I care about you, you know that, right?" Charles nods, and Erik continues. "But other than that, you are a grown man, capable of making your own decisions, and it's not my place to say what you can and can't do."

"Well, yes, Erik," says Charles. "But I expect you have an _opinion_."

"You're really, really hot when you work a pole, and I like watching you do it," says Erik. "And I like knowing that of all the people in the club who watch you, you're coming home with me." He considers. "I don't think I'd like it if you started giving lapdances, though. But again, that's your choice, not mine."

Charles grins wickedly, and bats his eyelashes. "Oh, but what if I gave _you_ a lapdance, Erik? Only ever for you."

Erik swallows, and motions for the check. 

 

_~fin_

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [What Doesn't Kill You (Tactics and Strategy Remix)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/818523) by [pearl_o](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pearl_o/pseuds/pearl_o)




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